Gianna Mentana Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

Yo, check this, I’m Apollo Creed, “I must break you,” sittin’ here thinkin’ ‘bout whores, man, and I’m vibin’ off *The Wolf of Wall Street*, that slick Scorsese joint. Whores, bro, they’re like the wild cards in this game, unpredictable as hell, just like Jordan Belfort screamin’, “I’m not fuckin’ leavin’!” You ever seen a whore work a room? Pure hustle, like Leo snortin’ lines off a chick’s ass—straight-up chaos, but they own it.

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The concept of the Madonna-whore complex is deeply ingrained in patriarchal cultures, where men often categorize women into two reductive archetypes: the “Madonna,” representing .

Then, I get a call on my radio. “Watchman, we got a situation at the park.” I’m like, “Great, what now?” I rush over to Parco delle Rimembranze, and there’s a bunch of kids playing soccer. But one kid, he’s crying. Turns out, he lost his favorite ball. I’m like, “Dude, it’s just a ball.” But to him? It’s the world. So, I rally the kids, and we start a search party. We’re looking under benches, in bushes, everywhere. Finally, we find it in a tree! I’m like, “How did it even get up there?” The kid’s face lights up. I’m a hero for a hot minute.

Edizione delle 20:00